My story is simple. I
met Ryan Hale when we were 7 or 8. We sat next to each other in class
and became fast friends. When we were 14 I told him that I think I
might be homosexual, and four months later I informed him of the
inevitable attraction I had for him. He said he was straight, I
backed off, and we lived happily ever after as friends. The End.

That would have been
simple wouldn’t it?

We’re 17 now,
both in college. We were lucky enough to be in the same class for the
subjects we took in common. Everything was as it exactly was when we
were 7 or 8. Actually, that wasn’t true. Everything was as it
exactly was when we were 14 and I told him I kinda sorta maybe liked
him.

I’d be lying if I
say I don’t feel that way anymore. If I was any smarter I'd get
over him already, but I haven't, and you can probably guess – I
don't want to. Friends come and go. I've had so many friends which I
thought we'd at least never lose touch of, and in the end, I can't
say I'm torn about it. I'm not even sure I miss them. Sure if we bump
into each other I wouldn't mind getting together, but you know what I
mean. My point is, if I wanted to get over him, it wouldn't be the
hardest thing in the world.

So
why am I so obsessed with him? You let me know if you know the
answer. Maybe it's love; I mean sure, I love who he is: he's
confident, casual, mature and all that. As for actually being in
love?

There are too many
possibilities: maybe it's because he's my first crush, maybe my
intuition tells me it could happen, maybe I'm too lazy to start
obsessing about someone else. Usually at this point I just decided I
don't care about some kind of revelation and look for that folder on
my hard-drive full of porn.

We were in the library,
trying to finish some homework we pushed aside until today, now,
minutes before the class of which it’s due. We did manage to
finish, 5 minutes after the class bell’s rung. We ran to the
class through empty corridors; everybody’s in a class or
somewhere else. We were only stopped when we bumped into Betty Dean.

“Oh…
Oh it’s you! Where the fuck were you two yesterday? Doesn’t
matter. Here’s the invitation. You heard about my Valentines
Day party, right? Make sure you come, and with each other. Three
couple I invited broke up, so I don't think they'll be turning up…”
She giggled, “Well, there’s just two, one of them turned
out to be related.”

“Look,
thanks Betty, but…” Ryan tried to say we’re in a
hurry.

“Ooh,
look, I gotta go. Hope the potato salad’s not sold out. Bye!”
she left as fast as she came.

We stood in the
corridor, looking at each other. I know what he was thinking.

She thought we were a
couple.

We didn’t laugh,
but we did cracked smiles and snorted a little, for a short time.
After all, we're used to people thinking we're a couple.

Then it was him who
started it. There was a smile in his eyes.

“Well...”
he said as he ran a finger down my right arm. From shoulder to wrist.
“... What do you say we stop pretending right now and just
bugger already?” his eyes exaggeratingly sultry.

I rolled my eyes. We'd
do this every other week. Sometimes he'd be drama Ryan and he'd say
“Oh darling!” a lot and quote Shakespeare, sometimes I'd
lead and be all angsty, and pretty much recite something that could
be a punk rock song. Believe it or not, this is nothing.

“Ryan,
we're late.”

“Don't
change the subject, Stan. Who are we trying to fool here? Huh?”

Swiftly, he moved
closer. One hand now on my derrière, and the other on the back
of my head, holding me close. His expression still playful and mine
still half annoyed, half amused.

“Kiss
me. I cannot wait any longer! Kiss me and tell me that you feel the
sa-...”

I grabbed his head and
pulled in, with a smile in our eyes. We kissed with our lips closed.
This is how it usually ends – with a kiss. Although usually I'd
drag it out a bit longer by resisting. Something along the line of
“We cannot. We must not.”

Our mouths parted as
quickly as they met. I said it was a kiss, but it was really a peck
at best. Usually we'd be doing this in front of other people, but
since we're not, I was getting the feeling that this is a little too
dangerous. I was a little afraid I might spring a boner and make this
to mean more than nothing.

And I said our lips
parted, but what happened was, somehow, we parted so little that we
might as well be still kissing, and somehow, we kissed again. Our
lips pulled together like magnets. I felt our lips parted a little,
perhaps. We pulled away before there was tongue. Was there gonna be
tongue? It was so short I can't be sure, but not short enough to be
innocent.

Maybe it was him who
kept me from drawing too far away after the initial peck, launched
the more prominent kiss and/or gave signal to possibly french, or
maybe it was me. Maybe it was us both or maybe there was no cauuse.

Yes, something
certainly did happen. There was saliva, there was my growing penis
(what did I tell you?), and there was the sensation in my stomach. I
have no proof but it’s his doing, he intended it, it would’ve
been nothing if he didn’t mean it.

And there it was, a
smile. This smile was unlike one of humour. This smile happened
because of content, because of pride, satisfaction, because of
comfort, joy, pleasure.

And so on and so forth.

As fast as that smile
appeared, it was gone, his eyes caught a look at the clock hung on
the wall behind me and what replaced the smile was panic. He rushed
again to the classroom. I followed.

What was that smile
about?

Yeah, what was that
smile about?

“Nice
to see you gentlemen.” said the teacher.

Suddenly I realized I
was in public, and a sudden surge of awareness about my erection
rushed to my head, but it was no use; there were giggles.

As I sat down to the
seat in front of Ryan, the boy next to me asked, whispering: “Was
Ryan chewing your dick out there?”

“Ryan
who?”

16:42, I have been
moving around constantly since I got back home. The whole day I've
been making excuses and avoiding Ryan. Bit juvenile, I know, but I’m
only 17.

I've decided to just
stop obsessing and work out something. I'm ready for that revelation
now. What are the possibilities?

Possibility one: It was
him.

Sometimes you just
know, y’know? Well, I think I know. And there was that smile,
what was he so smug about?

Bastard.

Possibility two: …

… …

Argh, I can’t
think of an alternative, the first possibility is stuck in my head,
like a song.

Fuck this.

I ran. I rarely run
since I reached 15. Nothing seemed to worth that much effort anymore.
I ran until I reached the dysfunction that was the front garden of 45
Grange Road. I won’t get into it right now. I rang the
doorbell.

“Thanks.”
I rushed upstairs. My haste seemed a tad rude, I know, but I was in a
hurry.

I barged into Ryan's
room.

“Tell
me it was you.” I commanded. Ryan was lying in bed, playing
with his Gameboy.

“Stan,
hi, what’s wrong?”

“Just
tell me it was you. Today, this morning in college, we kissed in the
corridors. We weren’t serious to begin with, but then we meant
it.”

Ryan stared at me.

I moved closer, “We
meant it, right?

“ ’Cause
I can’t stop thinking about it, and the only reason I can think
of, that can explain what happened is it was you who did it, you
kissed me. All afternoon, all day I've been building up on the hope
that it was you, my mind simply rejected other ideas because it was
all I could fucking think about.”

“So
tell me, it was you.”

Faster than I could
think, he leaped. Before my mind could register, we were kissing,
tongues and all. We pulled our bodies closer to each other, the taste
of his mouth, the smell of his breath, the heat of his closeness.

Passion. It was greater
than I imagined. It was a little overwhelming.

When I opened my eyes
we were naked, in bed. His eyes were still closed and he was mounting
on top of me. He whispered in our kiss: “God I've waited so
long for this.”

What the fuck.

I broke the kiss,
“What!” I exclaimed.

“What?”

“What
the fuck do you mean, ‘I've waited so long for this’?”

“Err,
Stan?”

“I
was the one who came out to you, I was the one who you rejected
because apparently, you don’t suck cock, I was the one who had
to tell myself that this will pass when I find someone else all those
bloody nights after I came all over my chest thinking about you, and
now you tell me you’ve waited so long?”

Ryan stared. “Shit.”
He said.

“I’m
such an idiot.” He looked away, and then he looked back at me.
“I've been confused. When you told me you were gay, and then
you told me you think you like me, I suppose, I didn’t really
know what that meant.

“You
were always the mature one.” He added. I'm the mature one?

“I’m
not so sure myself. I noticed I was curious, but…

“But
it never registered that you might be gay too.” I finished the
sentence.

“I
suppose.”

“So,
what was that kiss in the corridor?”

“Impulse.
The kiss clarified a few things. I was gonna talk to you but you were
avoiding me.”

“And
the ‘waited for so long’ thing?”

“I
dunno, it just slipped, it seemed right at the time.”

Now it’s my turn
to stare.

“Maybe
subconsciously, I was waiting for you to make another move.”

And then we realised we
were in the middle of sex.

He ran his rugged hand
on my chest, across my abdomen, and then back to the chest, to my
neck. At the same time, I stroked his thighs, his buttocks. I sat up
and pulled him closer, I am now face to face with his penis.

I have never come this
close to examining his manhood. It had been a thing of fantasy, it
almost felt sacred, forbidden, yet here I am, holding it in my hand.
A sudden surge of excitement charged my body.

I licked, and licked
again, I enveloped it with my mouth, the usual. And then I looked up
to his face, with eyes closed and throat flexed, I pulled him toward
me until my nose is touching his pubic hair.

Ryan did the little
laugh or gasp which happens with a good surprise, and he said:
“You’ve done this before, haven’t ya?”

I slowly drew his rod
out of my mouth, and replied: “Remember Chris Parkinson?”

“Excuse
me?”

“Chris
Parkinson, near the end of year 10, we
fooled around a couple of times. He left that year, remember?”

“And
here I am, thinking it was with a cucumber.”

I grinned.

“Why
didn’t I know about it?”

“It
was supposed to be a secret.”

And with that I
continued. Slowly I moved on to the balls, he moaned a bit louder.

“Fuck
me.” He said.

I continued sucking.

“Fuck
me, Stan.” And with those words I stopped.

“Are
you serious?”

“God
yeah, fuck me now!”

“I
hadn’t thought of you as a bottom.”

“Well,
think again, ass.” He said as he twisted around and searched a
drawer at the cabinet near his bed, it was full of batteries, Gameboy
stuff and old diaries. Behind the diaries there was a box of
lubricant. Three sachets were missing.

“Did
you get those?”

“Aunt
Laura did, she thought we were a couple.”

He threw a sachet onto
my chest. I took it and shimmied my way behind him, through his legs.
I put down the sachet.

“What’re
you doing?”

“Stay
still.”

With one hand I grabbed
hold of his left cheek, with the other I pressed his back, with my
signal he bended down a little; he supported himself with his hands
by the bed’s headboard. I retrieved my hand and relocated it on
his other cheek. With my hands I spread those perfect cheeks.

I love rimming, as long
as it’s clean. I read a novel where there were a couple of
paragraphs about rimming, and how being rimmed is one of the most
submissive positions in sex, which made it that much sexier. One time
with Creedy he hesitated to let me rim him because he probably didn’t
have a shower, but I didn’t care because I really wanted to do
it, and I still loved it. I knew Ryan would always shower when he
gets home so that was all the better.

With each pressing of
my tongue he made a little whimper. I decided to put him out of his
misery.

I grabbed the packet of
lubricant and applied liberally. I slipped a finger in, and he
gasped, I entered another, and he bit his lip. After I played with
his ass a little, I withdrew my fingers. We were ready.

It was hot.

As I leaned on the wall
of the shower cubicle, and Ryan leaned onto me, it started to sink
in. Not only have we become a couple, but I was the top. After we
switched position three times we finally settled on where we started,
with both hands I grabbed tight on his waist and gave him everything
I had. In all the porn movies I have on my hard drive, it always
turned me on to see the butch guys with the muscles getting their
brains fucked out of them. I was getting everything I wanted.